


(this time it's not) all in my head

by ambitioncutsusdown



Category: The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Dreams, Dreams vs. Reality, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-06
Updated: 2015-06-06
Packaged: 2018-04-03 04:47:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4087504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ambitioncutsusdown/pseuds/ambitioncutsusdown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He’s tall, but not as tall as Thomas. One or two inches smaller. Slender, but Thomas suspects he might still win a fight over him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(this time it's not) all in my head

**Author's Note:**

> first posted to my tumblr, now also here (bc there needs to be more thomaris ok)

_He’s tall, but not as tall as Thomas. One or two inches smaller. Slender, but Thomas suspects he might still win a fight over him._

_Note to self: do not pick a fight with him._

_Fighting isn’t really the first thing he’s think about doing with him anyway. There’s a lot of other things he’s prefer a lot more, and Thomas can feel his cheeks heating up just at the thought of that._

_The boy smirks like he knows exactly what’s going on in Thomas’ head._

_He doesn’t stop to think about that – a hot guy smirking at him is already complicated enough. No need to change it into a hot guy smirking at him because he can read his mind._

_“Thomas,” he whispers._

_If he’d been coherent enough, he might have thought it strange the guy knew his name. But he’s not coherent, so now he only shivers, closes his eyes as he tries to bottle that sound, tries to never forget it. It sounds magical, like a spell, like witchcraft._

_“Thomas,” the boy repeats himself, this time sounding a lot closer. When Thomas opens his eyes again, he’s standing in front of him._

_Still smirking._

_Thomas can count his lashes, could probably spend hours describing the blue color of his eyes with words like cobalt and azure and blue-silver – like rays of sunshine hitting the sea on a sunny day, making everything sparkle, making him believe in magic and miracles._

_“Thomas.”_

_He gasps, wanting to reach out and grab him, but his movements are so slow. Lifting his arm takes forever, and he’s getting desperate. He wants the boy, he wants to touch him, he wants to hold him._

_He wants to know him._

_Though something inside of him says he already knows the guy. He’s seen him before. Thomas thinks he’s even touched him before, because he can imagine  the warmth underneath his fingertips, olive skin contrasting with his own pale one. He knows what it’s like to bury his hands in short, dark hair. He knows what those lips feel like pressed against his own, what they feel like travelling down his body, what they feel like sucking bruises into the sensitive skin of his thighs._

_He knows all of that, memories coming back so fast it’s almost painful._

_This is not a stranger. This is a boy he knows very well._

_But why can’t he talk to him? Why can’t he touch him, why can’t he remember his name?_

_“Thomas.”_

_He blinks, can feel tears welling up in his eyes._

_He wants to answer, he_ has _to answer. He can’t let this boy get away from him._

_He tries to step forward, but something is holding him back._

_The guy is still standing there, smirking, like he’s toying with him, but there’s a certain sadness in his features Thomas hadn’t noticed earlier. He looks like he knows what Thomas is struggling with and it saddens him._

_It saddens Thomas as well, but even more than that it frustrates him._

_It’s all so close and yet so far. There are so many memories, but they’re not telling a complete story. They’re all just fragments, loose pieces, and he can’t put them in the right order. All he has is this boy and feelings he doesn’t understand and name he can’t remember._

_“Thomas.”_

_Thomas, that’s him. He’s Thomas, but he’s not alone. There’s two of them._

_Thomas and the boy._

_The boy and Thomas._

_He needs to know._

_He gasps and nearly doubles over when it hits him, like he’s getting punched in the stomach and has to grasp for air._

_“Aris,” he whispers._

_How could he forget?_

_It’s Aris, it’s_ his  _Aris, it’s…_

_“Thomas,” he whispers with a smile, disappearing in front of Thomas’ eyes._

“Thomas!”

He jerks awake, sitting up straight and looking around in confusion and finally recognizing Newt. “Wha?”

“It’s time to get up dude, you’re already late. What the fuck were you dreaming, you kept making these noises.”

Thomas frowns and shrugs. “Don’t know, don’t remember. Probably nothing important.”


End file.
